


Breathless

by doobler, ssironstrange



Series: Resurrected Hearts, Mended Souls [3]
Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), IronStrange - Fandom, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Asphyxiation, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Choking, Edgeplay, First Time Bottoming, First Time Topping, Fucking, Gay Sex, Kinky, M/M, Orgasm, Porn, Porn With Plot, Public Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Content, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-03
Updated: 2018-07-02
Packaged: 2019-05-17 14:51:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 9,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14834357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doobler/pseuds/doobler, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ssironstrange/pseuds/ssironstrange
Summary: Avenger boyfriends Tony Stark and Stephen Strange have been dating for a little over three months. The rest of the team hasn't seen this side of Tony since before the Mad Titan showed his ugly face, and even the somber Sorcerer Supreme has been in unusually high spirits.After a rough but victorious encounter with agents sent from the Dark Dimension - Dormammu's way of "checking in" - Tony and Stephen do a little celebrating of their own. Which leads to some interesting discoveries...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> 99% shameless smut i'm not sorry  
> Music: [Recommended playlist](https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLY-XYh8i3mZhwUtB33JMnKePnKctAnKTX)

Stark couldn't rip off the shredded remains of his armor fast enough, not even with Strange's shaking hands fumbling to help.  
Chunks were torn off to crash into smaller pieces on the polished concrete floor of his lab. Legs were kicked until whole sections came loose and went flying into equipment around them that Tony had absolutely no concern for. While Strange continued to work pieces off, Tony furiously and impatiently struggled to untie and unbuckle the preposterous amount of belts the sorcerer wore, which never failed to amuse him. With the last piece of red and gold armor shoved off, Strange worked on ripping apart the already rather shredded shirt from his chest. Sizable hands and long, trembling fingers smoothed over exposed flesh marred with freshly formed bruises; glided down his ribs with a carefully trained touch. Tony had finally managed to break through what might as well have been a chastity attire of belts and layers of robes. It was all dumped on the floor carelessly at Stephen's feet along with the scraps of armor littered around them. He had a few darkening bruises about his lean waist and Tony paused in his hasty endeavor to strip him to gently let his fingertips glide against the bruises.

He should have done a better job protecting him. Those bruises were his fault. The only reason Strange should have ever been bruised was out of their hot tempered love.  
He winced as those fingers crawled over the second to last rib on his right side and Stephen paused there before pressing against it with Tony grunting in protest.  
"Yeup, that's fractured. Maybe we should wait." Strange suggested with concern.  
"Uh, yeah, how about no." Tony fired back immediately.  
Stephen had a remark at the ready and Tony knew it, so he rushed in grabbing him by the back of the neck, pulling him down while at the same time raising up a bit to the balls of his feet to smash lips to lips and shut him up. It was a good tactic and worked; Strange kissed back with renewed vigor while walking him backwards until he butted up against one of the many work tables and had tools rattling and falling noisily to the floor. Stark swept his arm behind him, sending even more tools and papers and projects clattering down. Once more his hands went to work on Stephen, pulling the drawstring of the loose trousers undone. Then they were shoved down to have him nearly naked, save for the boots. Tony pulled away and sucked in a well needed breath.

"You taste like blood." Stephen mentioned, wiping his mouth onto the back of his hand just to check.  
"That tends to happen when you take a left hook to the jaw." Tony toed off his sneakers and hurriedly dropped his jeans and boxers, then kicked them aside.  
Strange's gaze locked onto Tony, the man slowly sinking down onto his knees and trailing kisses down his torso on the way. God, he never tired of the sight of _the_ Tony Stark down on his knees before him. His hands combed through the thick, dark hair with nails just barely grazing against his scalp.  
"Gonna magic those boots off any time soon, boyfriend?" Tony grasped his hips and kissed against his thighs.  
"And here I thought you were going to take them off while you were down there." But he removed a hand from his head for a quick gesture that blinked the boots out of existence for a moment, then popped back to drop from the air nearby, adding to the utter mess of the lab.  
This was a risky location, moreso than any other place they'd done it, at least. At least half of it was just windows that opened up to the outside. Glass walls offered no privacy for anyone coming down from the main floor. Tony _never_ gave a shit where they were, but for Stephen this exhibitionism was new, thrilling, and a touch frightening wondering just what he would do if they were ever caught. Die, probably.  
But right now, nothing else even existed aside from he and the billionaire on his knees.  
And his mouth. His mouth and tongue engulfing the raging, needy hard-on he'd had since they stumbled through the portal into the lab.  
As much as he did so enjoy getting Stephen weak in the knees over good head, Tony was still riding the adrenaline high from their fight and he needed _more._ Stephen, too, by the impatience so clear on his face. Tony still pouted a bit when Strange grabbed a fistful of hair to pull his head back and off of him. The other hand was gesturing up that goddamn levitation spell and lifting Stark from his knees to basically drop onto the table he'd already cleared off, landing with a grimace of the broken rib shifting.  
The pain was barely processed as the doctor grabbed his thighs and pulled him to the edge. Slickened head of his generously sized dick rubbed and pressed against muscle all too eager to take him in while Stark clawed at the metal surface of the table for something - anything - to grab hold of. With one quick movement, Stephen shoved inside, hips smacking against his thighs. Breath hitched from the suddenness of it yet his legs wrapped around and crossed at the ankles behind his back as though trying to push him in even deeper. Stark was offered no reprieve as his hips drew backwards only to plow forward again. And again. And Again. Each time a little harder and faster than before. Groans were choked out and chased by sweet whimpered moans in tandem with the slap of hip meeting thigh. All of it loud enough to drown out the softer, breathy sounds by the sorcerer.


	2. Chapter 2

The metallic screeching of the table legs dragging across the floor with every forceful thrust wasn't even enough to distract either of them.  
What was distracting, for Stephen at least, was the need for a step forward every few thrusts. This table just wouldn't do.  
Reluctantly, Stephen pulled out of him which had Tony panting and groaning - and confused.  
"Can't be tired already..." Breathlessly uttered while he pressed his heels against the small of his back to urge him forward again.  
"No, I just don't feel like chasing the table."  
Stark looked over the edge, laughing through trying to catch his breath at the scratches left on the floor, already about four feet long.   
That laughter was interrupted by Stephen's deeply commanding voice.  
"Against the window," He reached behind to untangle Stark's legs and yanked him off the table. " _Now._ "  
Tony stumbled to his feet and stepped around clothes and scrap metal scattered about on the floor. Rare was it that Stephen took that particular tone with him, but it ignited something deep inside when he did. Part of the reason watching him fight was such an arousing experience was purely the confidant, authoritative way he handled the situation. Nothing made him shudder with hungry anticipation quite like a domineering Stephen Strange. 

Hands pressed against the large window that overlooked one of the hangers on the premises where anyone walking between there and the main facility could just look up and catch it all - especially since there were still a few hours of daylight left. Tony had been daring before, but not this blatant. Adrenaline was spiking again.  
Strange's hand between his shoulder blades shoved him forward for his entire torso to press against the cool glass, then his body pinned him there. The pressure of being crushed against the window was relieved momentarily as Stephen leaned back only enough to reach between them and grab his cock to guide it back into place between muscular cheeks.  
Tony sucked in a sharp breath between clenched teeth, fists curling tight and head falling forward to thunk against the window where hot breaths fogged the glass. Stephen leaned back in against him, former surgeon hands grabbing hold of clenched fists to work their fingers into an intertwined embrace and further keep him pinned down. The tickle of whiskers against his neck came before the soft brush of lips that quickly lead into the sorcerer suckling dark reddish-purple spots to the surface. Already covered in a generous layer of sweat, Tony slipped against the glass from hips hard at work behind him. It was a weird, sweet sort of torture; the pressure combined with the slick movement of his cock trapped between his own body and the window.   
It was one thing to get caught in a tender kiss or teasing touches, and another thing _entirely_ to be exposed to the goddamn world like this, on full display for anyone's viewing pleasure.  
It was absolutely thrilling.  
And then there was the element of pain. The pressure had that fractured rib shooting pain through his chest but mixed into and lost with the pleasure and excitement; it became an added sensation to enjoy with the rest.

That all too familiar prickling, tingling tickle about the base of his spine was building, creeping intensity higher with every pass Strange made against the swollen sweet spot. Throaty groans were growing into more desperate gasps for air and whines for the mercy of release. Yet each and every time he was sure just one or two more thrusts would push him over the edge, Stephen would cease all movement and leave him teetering on the precipice until he came down enough to do it all again.  
"Stephen," He breathed out. " _Please_." and begged.


	3. Chapter 3

Tony was a clever man. It hadn't taken him long at all to figure out how to pull Stephen's strings to get what he wanted.  
That almost worked this time, the way he begged like that. How he would only do it for him and no one else. How it was their little secret just how much of a mewling little bitch the billionaire could be when there was a dick stuffed in his ass.  
It was almost enough for Stephen to give in to his pleas and let the man have what he was desperately craving. Truth be told he was on the verge himself and had been for a while, hanging on by sheer willpower alone.  
It was almost enough.  
But it wasn't.  
"No." Stephen breathed against his ear and kissed just below it.  
"Fuuuck," Tony half growled, half whispered.  
Strange smirked. Oh how he loved having the upper hand.

Kisses were peppered down the side of his neck as Stephen slowly pulled out, his groan muffled against Tony's flesh.  
And then, an idea.  
Haunting greens snapped up, looking through the window as though working through some calculations while letting Tony cool down once more despite him wanting the exact opposite.  
Fingers unlaced and slipped away from Stark's before he leaned back and finally unpinned the man.  
For the sole purpose of grabbing his bicep to spin him around for his backside to smack against the sweat-drenched glass.  
"I know that look." Tony grinned and reached forward to rest his hands on Stephen's hips. "Care to share with the class?"

He pulled him in by his hips until dick pressed against dick, then dropped a hand between to languidly stroke both at the same time. Stark had never paid much attention to his size difference with people before, but there was just something about it with Strange that was so damn appealing. The few inches of height the sorcerer had over him, how lithe yet strong his body was compared to the more compact muscle on himself, how his cock was longer while his own had more girth. They complimented one another quite well if he were to say so himself.  
Stephen drew in a deep inhale and tilted his head down to rest against Tony's, eyes closed for a moment. The request was on the tip of his tongue but the fear of Stark's response held it back. They could get rough and wild but...  
Strange moaned behind a bitten lip as Tony twisted his palm over their sticky heads.

"Out with it, Strange." Tony grinned sheepishly, head tilting up to let his lips hover oh so close but denying him an actual kiss.  
Heat was rising to his cheeks already - he'd blame that on Tony's hand, on the amount of time he'd been on edge. With a thick swallow, Stephen let his eyes open. Hands raised to cup either side of Stark's face with more of a shake than normal. Again, something he would blame on anything other than his own nervous anxiety. A quick kiss of teasing lips was stolen first for courage.  
"Choke me."  
Stark's eyebrows nearly shot off his face for how they rocketed upwards.  
"What?"  
Stephen's hands began to slowly glide down his neck, then shoulders, then down the defined muscles of his arms until he managed to pull Stark's hands into his own.  
"I want you,"  
Then his hands were slowly raised.  
"With these hands,"  
Stephen placed them against his neck.  
"To choke me,"  
He leaned into them a bit.  
"While you fuck me."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by Doobler!!!!

Tony swallowed thickly, brows dancing along the plane of his forehead. His eyes dragged between his hand against Stephen’s throat and the gaze of his lover. The sorcerer looked desperate, his breathing uneven, his pupils like minute pinpoints in a sea of green.  
“I'm sorry, I think I still have blood in my ears,” Tony spoke up, blinking rapidly. “You want me to _what?_ ”  
“Choke me. Please. If it isn't too much of a hassle.”  
There was an odd irony in asking so politely when they'd just been tangled together on the table and fucking mercilessly against the glass. Then again, such passion and intensity was commonplace in their shared bedroom. This new offer was different and unexpected.  
“Maybe you're a bit too roughed up for this--” Tony started.  
“Says the one with a fractured rib and multiple subdermal contusions.” Stephen replied smoothly.  
“I know that's doctor speak for 'bruises’, don't try and make it sound scarier than it actually is.” Tony rolled his eyes.  
Pursing his lips, Stephen leaned in, closing the space between them. What had been a hotly feverish display of lust had simmered down to a gentle bubbling. The smell of sex and the sensation of two bodies meeting still hung heavily in the air but it was muted. Stephen ran his tongue along Tony’s lower lip, biting tenderly.  
“If you don't want to, I won't force you,” Stephen huffed, reaching between them to wrap trembling fingers around their twin erections. “But it's a uh. An option.”

A flurry of emotions crossed Tony’s face. Guilt, tenderness, lust, reluctance, understanding, lust again, more hesitation, a third helping of bottomless lust. He settled on acceptance, reaching up once again to wind his hand around Stephen’s throat. Though he applied no pressure at all, the sorcerer inhaled sharply. His cock gave a sudden throb, prompting a shudder down Tony's spine.  
“You’ll tell me if this isn't okay, right?” Tony asked, retracting his hand.  
“Oh my fucking god-- _yes, I promise._ ” Stephen groaned. He twisted his fist on the upstroke, sparks of pleasure jolting through both of them.  
Blinking rapidly, Tony closed his grip around Stephen’s throat. He started slow, focusing on the firmness of flesh beneath his fingertips. Stephen had an oddly attractive neck-- odd in that it was an unexpected feature to admire-- long and slender with smooth pale skin; The perfect column to leave dark hickies on. The sorcerer swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing between Tony’s digits. As he gradually increased the pressure, Tony could feel muscle and tendons bending and moving. The thrum of Stephen’s pulse thumped against his palm, strong and quick.  
“Damn,” Tony breathed, adjusting his grip so his thumb pressed against the softness below Stephen’s chin. “I'm… Starting to get it.”  
Stephen huffed a laugh, a high reedy moan pulled from his lips as Tony firmly pushed his thumb inward. The sudden pressure made Stephen squirm, losing the rhythm in his hand. He settled on cradling Tony's waist, rolling his hips to grind their cocks together.

“When did you do this before?” Tony’s voice dropped an octave, sultry like dark velvet.  
“Oh fuck-- cuh-ca-college,” Stephen stammered, eyelids fluttering rapidly. “I uh hooked up with this one guh-guy who was r-reeeaaalllllyy kinky-- he u-used a silk necktie instead of h-hiii-his hands.”  
“Do you like this better?”  
Something changed in Stephen’s eyes. A sinister glean that glowed from deep within. Tony swore for a moment that his usually calm pale irises took on an almost scarlet hue.  
“I fucking love this.”  
Tony took a chance, shifting his hold to cradle Stephen’s neck within the curve of his entire hand. He used his palm and fingers to squeeze down, his grip firm and steady. Stephen gasped, his spine going rigid. Tony could feel his windpipe convulse, flexing as it struggled to suck in air. The sounds ripped from the sorcerer’s lungs were intoxicating, a harmonious concerto of high-pitched squeaks and low rumbling moans. He sounded distraught until a heady groan broke through, dripping with lewd excitement.  
“Oh fuck, you look so fucking good like this.” Tony gushed, watching Stephen's cheeks blossom with a rosy flush.  
Tony loosened his grip, listening intently as Stephen sucked in a huge lungful of air. His breathing was uneven, his eyes wide, his lips parted. He looked like the epitome of eroticism. Their gazes met, sparking the fire that had raged mere minutes ago.   
Stephen found his voice, the edges tinged with a faint hoarseness.  
“Again.”


	5. Chapter 5

“Not here,” Tony denied him at first and it filled him with a certain sort of satisfaction to see how Strange’s face twisted into desperation.  
His thumb pressed lightly to trace the ribbed edges of his trachea, teasing the man with the promise of more to come.  
“As much as I _do_ love to show you off - this is about the last thing we need them walking in on.” His hand glided up the length of that elegant neck, then took hold of his jaw to pull him down for a tantalizing kiss. “Find your ring…” Tony murmured against his lips, then let him go.  
Admittedly, this overeager and more submissive side of Strange was rather arousing. Thus far they had fallen into fairly set roles; Stephen did the fucking and Tony got fucked. _How_ they played their parts remained adventurous and exciting but Stark had started to wonder if his boyfriend wasn’t quite as flexible as he pegged him to be. Well, he had to wonder no more. Not with the way Stephen dashed to his pile of clothes on the floor.  
“FRIDAY, have the bots clean up and salvage any components of the armor that are still in working condition.”  
“Certainly. Would you like me to inform the others of your whereabouts when they return?”  
“No.” Tony smirked as Stephen successfully found his sling ring. “If they need me, I’ll be at the Sanctum. Otherwise I’m not to be bothered.”  
“Sure thing, boss.”  
Tony padded over to where his pants had been left and snatched them up before practically dancing around all the shit on the floor to join Stephen as the portal was opened straight into his chambers. He shoved the sorcerer through and followed after with a devious grin. The rift spiralled shut, leaving the various robots to start picking up the mess the two of them had made.

Stephen was sprawled upon the deep burgundy covers of his bed like a magnificent, apex feline waiting to ambush his prey. Tony couldn’t ever recall a time ever before that he was glad to be that prey. The sight of him like that, though, required a moment to take in and truly admire.  
Stark had seen countless pretty faces and gorgeous bodies over the years, including his own teammates. Rogers was peak physical human perfection. Thor was… a literal god. Even Barton had an attractive gracefulness to his physique. And Banner? Banner was about the cutest thing he’d ever seen - ironic given his other form. Yet all of them paled in comparison to the breathtaking beauty of Stephen Strange. His beauty was an unusual one that few could find, which worked in Tony’s favor. Lean muscled as though his profession should have been that of a dancer or runner with ample softness that said otherwise. While his skin was fair, it had seen enough sun for faint, ghostly freckles to scatter about his face and arms. Everything about him seemed just a hair too long - his face was long, his neck was long, his arms and legs were long, even his fingers were long - yet not so much to come off as lanky. His eyes a shocking and haunting chartreuse with slivers of pale blue mixed in, and wide-set which gave his face an unusual sort of youthfulness to it despite being close to his own age. The slanted almond shape only seemed to enhance his feline-esque elegance. Quite possibly the fullest (and most kissable) lips he had ever seen on a man with a most distinct cupid’s bow. Tony had never come across a mix of such very odd yet somehow luxurious features on a single person. It was as though the man had stepped out of a renaissance painting. He was simply stunning - as much now as he was the first time he saw him.

“Tony,” Stephen’s voice had him snapping out of the hypnosis the man’s body could so easily inflict. “Stop eyefucking me and _actually_ fuck me.”  
There was a rise of pink in the sorcerer’s cheeks, though. Once Strange had admitted that no one in his life had ever looked at him the way Tony did. It made him bashful and flustered - and Tony loved it.  
“Impatient, much?” Stark smirked and sauntered towards him, dropping the pants he’d grabbed on the way out of the lab.  
“Eager.”  
Stephen tossed something at him which he caught with instinctive precision. It was a small bottle of… lube? When did he even get that out? Or had he had it the whole time? Knowing Strange, he probably conjured it up out of some pocket dimension it had been hiding in for easy access.  
“So, you’re serious about this, then?” Tony crawled onto the bed beside him. “You want me to…”  
“Are you _really_ more hung up on the fact I want your cock in my ass and not that I like to be choked?”  
On his knees, Tony shuffled between those legs that seemed to go on endlessly.  
“ _Hey_ everyone has kinks.” He flipped the cap of the bottle open and turned it over to let it slowly drizzle onto his dick. “Not everyone likes anal - and I was starting to think you were one of those.” His hand dropped for a few slow strokes to spread it long the thick shaft.  
“I love it,” Stephen was staring at his hand's motions. “But I love making you scream and writhe beneath me even more.”  
“Uh, excuse you, I don’t _writhe._ ” Tony lied through his teeth.  
“I guess next time I’ll have to get it on video--ohh.”  
Tony pressed a couple of lube-slicked fingers against tight puckered muscle between them and rubbed teasingly slow. Again, Strange proved to be hypnotizing with how his chest raised from a deep inhale to the way his slender fingers curled into the blanket beneath them. He pushed his fingers inside with little resistance. Stephen’s cock bounced with a twitch. Eager indeed.  
“Mmn… I don’t need any of the foreplay, Tony. Just put it in.”  
Tony couldn’t help a suspicious glare. It had taken him the better part of the night for Stephen to ready him for their first time and it had still left him sore - and he wasn’t even all that thick.  
“And whose dick has been in here recently that makes you so sure already?” There might have been a slight, defensive edge to his voice.  
It made Stephen chuckle softly. Poor Tony was so afraid of losing him like he had lost so many in his life already that it sometimes made him overprotective and jealous. It was easy to understand, but having never had that, Stephen found it endearing.  
“The fake ones in the bottom drawer of the nightstand?”  
“Oh - wait what? You… since when??”  
“Well, let’s see, I think it started when I was around 16,” Strange started as if he were really going to recall the history of his sexual awakening.  
“Okay, smartass.” Stark rolled his eyes as Stephen gave him a smug grin.  
Fingers retreated and no time was wasted grabbing himself to position against him. Nor did he hesitate from there; With a firm hold on the junction of his thigh and hip, Tony pushed forward.


	6. Chapter 6

Tony wasn’t a religious man, and for good reason - yet it felt like he was discovering God by just _watching_ Stephen. The bedroom had become his church, and the bed itself the altar of worship. The way his spine arched and raised off the mattress, the feel of being wrapped in his legs embrace, the sweet and subtle moan that pitched into a soft whine - it was all absolutely _divine._

Stephen shifted an arm above his head to brace his hand against the wall, both to have some sort of grounding and as leverage to push himself against the tortuously slow thrusts Tony was intent on teasing him with. He let his head fall to the side, half buried against his bicep and using it to further stifle the utterly pathetic noises he couldn’t stop himself from making. Tony was having none of that, though. He leaned down, one hand beside Stephen’s head supporting his weight while his other snatched the sorcerer’s chin to right his head again and keep his face in full view. Even then, Strange was averting his gaze to _anywhere_ other than Tony’s directly above him. Color had risen so much to his face it spread to his ears and he could feel it radiating simply from his hold on his chin.  
Stephen Strange, Master of the Mystic arts and Sorcerer Supreme was _embarrassed._  
Tony cracked a grin worthy of the devil himself.  
“Look at me.” His voice was hushed, but there was no doubting the command it carried.  
Hips rocked forward at a much better angle and pulled another shallow, whimpered moan from Stephen’s lips. Reluctantly he managed to meet Tony’s gaze, those usually tender and soulful browns positively burning with desire. Stephen's stomach was suddenly awash in butterflies. He’d underestimated Tony in this, certain he wouldn’t find the appeal in any of it. Stark was too soft, too much in need of being the one cared for, too much of a protector. What Strange had forgotten was he had also once been the playboy to end all playboys. _Of course_ he could take the reigns.  
It was electrifying to come to the realization that Tony knew exactly what he was doing, and admittedly, a touch frightening - in a good way. Akin to the fear one experienced right before the highest drop of a rollercoaster; The promise of unquestionable thrill lingered just below the surface.

From his chin, Tony let his hand slide down Stephen’s throat where he could feel his racing pulse and the vibrations from each little sound he uttered. Tony could almost feel the anticipation from him like a physical entity around them, a crackling static waiting to explode into sparks.  
It was only fair, though, to make him wait for it. Stephen took entirely too much joy in keeping him on edge and denying orgasms time and time again, so it was well past due time to see how the Doctor liked the taste of denial for once. His hand drifted away entirely, moved Stephen's arm away, and rested it on the other side of his head opposite the other to better distribute his weight.  
His poor wizard visibly wilted. Feeling especially smug, Tony just smirked in his face right before a swift and hard thrust forward that caught Stephen so off guard he practically choked on his own groan.  
Though he’d refuse him the satisfaction of a hand around his throat, for now, Tony wouldn’t completely deny his kinky magician a little oxygen starvation. Immediately following that struggled groan, he slapped a hand over both his nose and mouth to cut off the inhale that would have followed. To make it worse, he kept the more aggressive tempo of thrusts going, hard enough for Stephen to need that hand against the wall now if only to stop his head from knocking against it.  
Strange wasn’t wrong about him being soft - the pure fear he witnessed blossom in the widening greens below damn near had him stopping instantly. He knew the look of panic on a personal level and it hurt his heart to be the cause of it for Stephen. However, the way his legs squeezed tighter and the hand that had been clawing the sheets now dug into his back reassured him that this was, in fact, what Stephen wanted. He was in no way overpowering the man - Strange could have easily kicked his ass into next year if he needed to. The fact that he didn't fight against it but rather _submitted_ to it was what Tony took the most comfort in.  
As the redness of his face began to take a darker, more purplish turn, Tony pulled his hand away and Stephen sucked in a burning lungful of air. It had felt like several minutes had passed with his hand clamped down when it had actually been less than a full one. Stark was starting to see the appeal of this, especially for the sounds of his panting mingled between growing moans. But it also put him in a very particular position of power that _only_ he had. 

Tony gave him a few minutes to recover to a steadier respiration pattern, slowing back down to gently rock into him. The trembling hand at his back made it’s jittery way up to his neck where Stephen pulled him down into a deep, open-mouthed kiss. Tongue rolled against tongue, twisted, swirled, and chased as though they were starved for each other's taste. His other hand left the support of the wall, opted to reach down to grab Tony by the hip and urge him deeper and harder. He didn’t want to recover. He wanted _him._  
Stark obliged without hesitation.  
Lips parted, wet and reddened. The air between them was balmy and hot and hard to get a good lungful - even Tony was starting to feel a little buzz of lightheadedness but he couldn’t bring himself to put more space between them. He wanted to suffocate on those lips with kiss after kiss and Stephen was quite happy to drown him.  
It wasn’t without purpose, though. Easy as it was for Stark to get completely and totally lost in him, he was building him up yet again. Tony was an easy one to judge when the roles were reversed; He had no shame at all in being as vocal as he could be. Stephen was quiet, though. While Tony was managing some beautiful whimpers and faint, hitched moans from the man they weren’t as tell-tale of his current state as his own were. He’d learned to pay attention to the smaller details of his body for this. How his breathing gradually became unsteady, the pressure of the fingers tangled in his hair and biting at his hip, the subtle quiver of his thighs, and, so he was now discovering, how he started to squeeze down around his cock - something that was driving him a little crazy, too.  
There was no better time to act. 

He raised up a bit to grab Stephen by the throat roughly, allowing him a ragged gasp before letting down some weight and closing his hand against straining muscles and trachea, soon after joined by the second hand to _actually_ strangle his lover. The sort of way he knew Stephen wanted; Deliberately painful and dangerous. To the point that he would no doubt be bruised tomorrow.  
Strange gulped for air without the ability to actually get any down. Again his face turned red, then purple. Still, Tony held firm, watching intently. He could feel how his body began to fight against it, twitching when it wanted to thrash. Still, Tony’s hands crushed down against the neck he loved so much. Just a few seconds more. Stephen’s legs around his hips began to slump, his shaking hands lost strength in their grip, and the lids of those wide, frantic eyes started to flutter. As he teetered on the edge of unconsciousness, Tony released him.  
Air rushed back into his lungs with a hoarse, wheezing gasp followed by a few harsh coughs from the pressure he’d applied. Color drained from his face, returning to a more normal flush of pink. 

Stark didn’t allow a full recovery, though. After he had a few good gulping breaths down, he grabbed Stephen’s throat once more. One-handed to still allow him to just barely suck in that sweet oxygen, the other moving to clutch his leg beneath the knee as leverage for the sudden and harsh change in pace. Every slam of his hips forward aimed for a single target. Quite an easy one to locate for how engorged it was. Every few seconds he’d soften his grip, allow him to gasp and wheeze and whimper, never quite able to fill his lungs as every brutal buck against him was knocking it out again. It was too much. Stephen was beyond dizzy, his adrenaline was through the roof, and Tony had every goddamn thrust targeted on his prostate. His everything was burning, each and every little nerve ending on fire. It was too much. His heart was hammering behind his ribs, he could feel the throb of his pulse from head to toe. The pressure was building rapidly - too rapidly. Yet just as real terror and confusion started to sink in, Stephen snapped. A rough, broken cry was let loose beneath the hand that tried to choke it. Nails broke into the flesh of Tony's back, clawing as though his life depended on it. Tony wasn’t quite prepared. For _any_ of it. For the strength of the contractions in tandem with each spurt of cum that painted Stephen's stomach and chest in splatters. For the sharp, stinging pain of the nails drawing blood on his back. For the way Strange looked shuddering beneath him. Stark doubled over, barely catching himself with a hand to Stephen’s shoulder. It shoved him over the edge unexpectedly, and he hissed a sharp inhale through clenched teeth. Breath was held a few seconds before his own powerful release spilled in copious amounts.  
“Fffuuuuucking _**fuck!**_ ” Tony half moaned, half _screamed_ with total disregard for who in the sanctum might have heard. Which was probably everyone.  
Stephen couldn’t even muster a laugh, winded and breathless, but he did grin bemusedly. Both arms folded over his face while his chest heaved laborious breaths that he was desperately in need of and the utterly overwhelming sensations of everything began to very gradually calm.


	7. Chapter 7

His arms shook as he held himself there above Stephen and panted. Sweat trickled down his brow and temples, dripped from the tip of his nose to mingle with Stephen’s likewise sweaty self. A few beads rolled into the scratches on his back, causing a small wince. Slowly, Tony pulled out of him, causing a sensory-overloaded Stephen to whimper through hitched breaths. It made him tempted to shove right back in just to hear him cry some more, even more as cum gradually trickled out. Now _that_ was a sight to savor. But, he wouldn’t be that cruel. Still plenty cruel, just not to that level.

After scooting down a little, Tony bent over him and began all too slowly licking the mess off him, splatter after splatter, causing Stephen to squirm beneath him and take in sudden and sharp breaths. At his chest, Tony detoured for a nipple. And bit - a little less than gently.  
“ThefUCK,” Stephen almost came out of his skin.  
His hand snapped down to Stark’s head and grabbed him by the hair to yank him off while he glared from beneath the other arm still folded over his face.   
“I _will_ magic your naked ass to the middle of the compound.” With the hoarseness to his voice, it sounded quite like a growl.   
Which only turned Tony on even more.  
“Okay okay fine. No more touching Mr. Sensitive.” Stephen released his hair and Tony rolled over to lay beside him on his side, head propped up on his hand.  
He couldn’t bring himself to stop staring at him even if he wanted to. A well-fucked Stephen Strange was perhaps the most beautiful, all trembling and messy and adorable. It was a polarizing contrast to his usual self. Tony pressed a few light kisses against his shoulder and tried to get a peek of him beneath his arm, growing a touch concerned for how he continued to hide. Had he gone too far and hurt him? Maybe found out he didn’t like that so much after all? Did he miss some sort of signal to stop? Oh god, what if he had wanted to stop??

“Stephen…?” Tony asked softly after a few moments of silence, worry lacing his voice.  
“I’m fine.” Stephen’s was laced with gravel. He swallowed, throat dry and sore. “It’s just… intense. Give me a moment.” He attempted to clear his throat a bit to smooth out his voice, not that it would help at all.  
Tony could hear a distinct warble in his voice, beyond the irritation of an abused larynx. He still had a sudden hitch in breathing here and there, and the breaths he exhaled were shaky. He was crying.  
 _Now_ he was panicking. Already mulling over a thousand things he should have been more careful about, things he could have made better. Shit. Why was he always fucking things up and hurting the very people he loved?  
Tony jerked a bit as a shakey hand was suddenly placed on his cheek.  
“Hey, I’m good.” Stephen reassured. Tony’s silence had prompted him to see what it was about, and go figure he had that damn look on his face, the one he got when he let the negative thoughts take hold.  
“Then why the tears?” Stephen tucked his other arm beneath his head, giving Tony the opening to reach up and swipe away the wetness lingering at the corner of his eye.  
“Well I was just fucking strangled for one.”  
“But y--”  
“And I enjoyed it tremendously, but it’s still a mental process to work through. And secondly,” A blush crept back onto his face and he looked… somewhere else. “That might have been my first prostate orgasm. So, you know, I need a fucking minute.”  
Tony didn’t even register the snappiness. That was his first what now? He couldn’t stop his grin.  
“Seriously? You’re like 50 and you’ve never had one?”  
“Hey douchebag, I’m younger than you.” He weakly elbowed Stark’s chest. “But no, never.”   
Stephen rolled over with some effort, back to Tony in a silent invitation to spoon. Never one to refuse the big spoon position - because honestly how could he not love holding him - Stark scooted up against him to let Stephen curl into him as he wrapped his arm around his chest and nuzzled against the nape of his neck, whiskers gently scratching. It made Stephen sigh slow and deep. Finally getting that air he needed.  
“Why?” Tony finally asked, sincerely hoping he wasn’t prying into some bad history.  
“Couldn’t really say,” He held Tony’s hand against his chest, thumb lazily gliding over his knuckles. “I’d get close but never actually there. For the longest time I was convinced I had prostate cancer or some dumb shit.”  
“Dude, you’re a doctor.”  
“And we make _terrible_ patients knowing as much about the body and what can go wrong with it as we do.”  
Tony’s laugh broke Stephen out into a smile. That sound breathed life into him. The only thing he might have loved more than Tony’s laugh was Tony himself.  
“And I assume you had it checked?”  
“Once I turned 40. I wasn’t willing to risk my career letting colleagues know I was gay.”  
“That’s bullshit.” Stark raised his head up and looked over his shoulder at him. “How the fuck does who you sleep with have any standing on your… doctoring?”  
“How does it have any standing on being an Avenger?” Stephen countered immediately, but kindly.  
“Well it’s not like it was some big damn secret with _me_ , honey.”  
“Still, you didn’t actually tell them until you couldn’t hide _us_ anymore.”  
“Fine. I didn’t want the team to have to deal with the _scandal_ of Iron Man being bisexual if they didn’t have to. Got more important things to focus on without the press getting into their personal shit.”  
Stephen grinned at his defensiveness, then turned his head much as he could to look back at him.  
“Now they just get into our personal shit.”  
“You know, I sort of like it. Being in the spotlight again. Showing you off. Showing off in general, really.”  
Stephen rolled his eyes and let his head flop back down onto the pillow. Despite going unseen, Tony still grinned at him before he pressed his lips to his neck again. Slow and tender, he trailed kisses down and followed the curve up to his shoulder. There, Tony perched his chin and gazed down at him.  
“When did you realize it?” Tony asked.  
“Hm?” Stephen had let his eyes shut for a moment, but cracked them open to look up at him.  
“That you had a thing for me.”

Strange looked away and fell quiet for a minute. It was a vivid memory - one of those that would linger until his true dying breath with the ability to recall every little detail. Except it wasn’t a happy one. Carefully, Stephen turned over, rolling in his arms to face him and stare into those goddamn beautiful brown eyes. He hated the memory of those eyes in so much pain and confusion. It wasn't fair how it had to happen, but it had to.  
“On Titan.”  
“You knew me for like three hours, you sappy romantic.”  
“I knew you for fourteen million six hundred and five _lifetimes_.”  
Tony stared at him, dumbfounded and shocked - he’d never even considered that. Stephen stared back, wondering how it was possible to keep finding new ways to love this wreck of a man, yet there he was adoring his cluelessness.   
“For being a genius,” Stephen started with a wry smile. “You’re terribly dense sometimes.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter brought to you by the lovely [klimt-and-cumberbatch](http://klimt-and-cumberbatch.tumblr.com/)!!!

_ “For being a genius, you’re terribly dense sometimes.” _

 

Tony let those words echo around in his brain for a few moments before he came back to the present, leaning up and over to press his lips to Stephen. “It’s your fault, babe. It’s what you do to my brain. I short circuit.”

Stephen laughed softly, his voice still a bit hoarse and wheezy. “Please shut up.”

Tony smiled, resting his head back down against the sheets. As he laid there for a few more minutes, his senses began to register how  _ disgusting _ he felt. In the heat of the moment, it had been sexy to be as sweaty as he was. But now, he was covered in drying cum and lube, damp and sticky in places he didn’t want to be damp and sticky in, and he was guessing Stephen was in no better shape.

He pushed himself to sitting up, groaning as the scratches on his back tugged and pulled, bringing with them fresh waves of stinging pain. “Ouch. You got me good, there, doc. I must’ve been doing a hell of a job,” he quipped, moving to stand beside the bed. 

Stephen grinned, wincing as he turned his head to look. “Oof. Mm,” he groaned, touching his neck gingerly, his fingers shaking.

After a moment of searching the floor, Tony grabbed the forgotten sling ring and tossed it onto the messy sheets. "Why don't you take us back to my bed - yours is a bit... sticky."  
Tony was right, and Stephen didn't feel like putting in the effort of stripping off the sheets. The ring was slipped onto his fingers and Tony's familiar bed visualized in his head before he opened a portal directly next to it and was able to roll himself from one to the other with a quiet grunt. Once Tony was through he severed the connection and let it fizzle out, then set the ring on the table beside the bed.

Tony couldn’t help but laugh again, shaking his head. “Alright. Be right back.” He dressed as efficiently as he could - a t-shirt and boxers - and padded into the bathroom. He wet a cloth with warm water, coming back to tenderly wipe Stephen down, kissing every inch of bare skin he could reach as he went. “You did amazing, babe, by the way.”

Stephen hummed quietly in acknowledgement, giving a faux wave to an imaginary crowd. “Thank you, thank you,” he croaked, cracking an eye open to look at his lover. “I feel - incredibly well-used, Tones. Like I’ve just run a marathon,” he said hoarsely. 

“Hey, that’s what everyone I've slept with used to say. I’m a pain in the ass, and I wear people out,” Tony said, offering Stephen a small smirk. He stepped out of the room for a moment, coming back with a mini-monitor in his hands, holding it over Stephen's throat.

“FRIDAY, baby girl, check Steph here over for anything life-threatening, hm?” Tony asked.

“Tony, I’m fine - “

“Ah, ah. We scan.”

Tony waited patiently as FRIDAY scanned over Stephen’s throat, examining the results with a small smile. “No lasting damage anywhere. Blood glucose level’s a little low… How about I make you some breakfast in the morning?” he asked, smiling.

Stephen smiled back, nodding. “Sounds good.”

Tony climbed back into bed, maneuvering them neatly beneath his cool, clean sheets before spooning up behind Stephen, his forehead resting against the nape of the other man's neck. “Sleep well, Steph.”

“You, too, Tony.”

Tony moved his hand to rest over Stephen's heart, feeling it beat underneath the warm skin of his palm. He closed his eyes, luxuriating in the feeling of another human body against his, the solidity and rush of blood beneath flesh comforting and grounding. For the first time in a long time, he slept without nightmares, without dreams.

 

He rested. And Stephen did, too.

 

For the first time in a long time, Tony woke without the need of an alarm. The sun was rising outside, and just barely pouring in through his windows. He smiled, sitting up a bit and looking back down at Stephen, who was still sound asleep. He ran a hand through the other man's salt-and-pepper hair, sighing quietly. He kissed Stephen’s forehead, watching him sleep for a bit longer before rising from bed.

Tony kissed Stephen’s forehead one more time before leaving his bedroom, heading down the hall and into the kitchen. He took a moment to lean against the island, a smile spreading wide over his face. How the hell did he end up here? He was genuinely loved and cared for by a man who had the entire multiverse at his fingertips. He was healthy-ish - eating better, exercising regularly, drinking lots of water (at Stephen's insistence, more often than not). 

And Stephen had known him for  _ lifetimes _ . Lifetimes! And he still stayed by Tony's side. He shook his head, chuckling to himself as he set a pan on the stove, fetching some eggs out of the fridge and getting to work on breakfast. He whistled to himself as he swayed in front of the stove, smiling as he heard a second pair of footsteps come in after him.

“Sneaky you are not this early in the morning, doc,” Tony hummed, pleased.

Stephen stepped up behind Tony and wrapped his arms around him, kissing his neck as he pressed his nose against the line of Tony's jaw. “Don’t have to be, here.”

Tony nodded, continuing to cook as Stephen slotted neatly up against his back. He turned and set two plates of eggs and veggie bacon out on the counter, enjoying a quiet breakfast with his lover for a bit. 

Stephen was the first to break the silence. “So.”

“So?” Tony asked, forking the rest of his eggs into his mouth. 

“When did you first know?” Stephen said, looking across at Tony.

“Know what?”

“That  _ you _ had a thing for  _ me _ .”

Tony flushed, his fork nearly slipping from his grip as the moment came hurling back to him almost instantaneously. “Uh.”

“Take your time. Although, the longer you take, the more I'll doubt your genius title,” Stephen teased.

Tony laughed a bit, looking back down at his plate, suddenly shy. 

Stephen’s heart clenched at the sight. Tony Stark, notorious for loving the spotlight, was shy and vulnerable around him. He reached across to lay a shaking hand on Tony’s, squeezing his wrist gently. “Hey. It’s alright. I told you I used a magic time rock to look into the future to find out I wanted you to choke me,” he joked. “Anything you say - “

“When you touched me the first time.”

Stephen paused, sitting back a bit. "Go on.”

Tony cleared his throat, chewing the inside of his cheek as he scraped his fork around the outside of his plate. “I just... Y'know. After everything with - the giant purple people eater, I was - pretty banged up. And you all came back. And I was sort of - losing it," he said with a wry smile, shaking his head. “I was with the kid, hugging, or whatever. And then you came over, and - put your hand on my shoulder, and… I genuinely couldn't remember the last time that someone had touched me and I hadn't panicked. Or felt - malice. You were so tender. And I just… I knew. That you were gonna take care of me, then. So. Yeah."

Stephen smiled so wide he thought his face might split. “My touch.”

Tony nodded. “Clued me in to you being a pretty damn good lover. Turns out I was right, so. Never doubt that Stark intuition,” he said, tapping his temple before standing to take care of their dishes. “Stay there, Strange. I'm gonna get these cleaned up, and then I'm gonna finish tending to you.”

When Tony returned again, it was with a bottle of bruise cream in his hands. He sat in front of Stephen on another barstool, dabbing some of the medicine on his fingers and spreading it gently over his neck. “Not the hickeys,” he assured with a wink, “just some of these - finger-type bruises. Don’t want anyone to think I’m hurting you. 

Stephen tilted his head to the side, obediently letting Tony care for him. They both needed this, after the intense love-making they'd had the day before. They needed tender, and aftercare. Stephen needed Tony, as much as Tony needed Stephen.

Stephen gave Tony an easy kiss after his hands returned to his sides, keeping them close together for another long moment. “Mm. Thanks, Tones.”

“Anything for you, sugar.”

Stephen smiled, easing a hand into Tony's hair and rubbing his scalp gently. “I’d… Better get back to it,” he said, his voice leaning just this side of regretful.

Tony nodded, not attempting to break away just yet. “Yeah. Me, too. Lots of - computer-y stuff that needs doing.”

Another kiss. And another. Stephen’s fingers retreated from Tony's hair, and Tony followed those shaking fingers, the other man's touch like a siren's call.

“I’ll - see you tonight?” Tony offered, watching as Stephen stood and slipped his sling ring onto his fingers. “I can - order in some takeout, or something - “

“I’ll be back around tonight,” Stephen assured, opening a portal to the sanctum and preparing to step through. “I think this - little escapade has opened up a whole new world of play for us, don’t you?"

Tony nodded, his eyes trained on the sorcerer’s back as he faced towards the sanctum. “Uh, yeah. I think so, too.”

“Brilliant,” Stephen said, turning to throw Tony a wink. “Because I’m gonna turn you insideout, shellhead.”

“Counting on it, Mister Doctor.”

Tony watched Stephen go, turning back around to face the rest of the compound. 

Oh, yeah. He could play a little bit more. 


	9. Chapter 9

Everything hurt. Most of it enjoyable aches as was usual, but some of it legitimate _pain_ that made him pause in the midst of his work to cringe or take a breather. It had Stark wondering just how his boyfriend was faring - he suffered twice the abuse, after all.  
“FRIDAY,” Tony groaned, pushing away from his work station. “Remind me and Stephen we aren’t as young as we think we are next time we think getting rough is a good idea.”  
“Boss, you programmed me to be a personal assistant, not your sex therapist.”  
“ _Wow_ , did I program you to talk back to me?”  
“Yes, sir, you did.”  
“Yes, I did.” Stark laughed, then sucked in a sharp breath as that broken rib sent stabbing pains straight down to his toes.

__________

 

“Happy is coming in, Boss.” FRIDAY’s voice cheerfully piped up after lowering the music he had blasting.  
Tony pushed the rolling creeper from beneath the elevated feet of one of his suits and slowly sat up with a pained groaned just as Happy crossed the threshold. Grease and oil were wiped onto his pants while his shirt was used to wipe away the sweat from his brow - smudging grease spots onto it.  
“Hey my man!” Dirtied face lit up in a wide smile.  
“Still hanging on to the Bleeding Edge one, huh?” Happy nodded to the suit.  
With a series of groans and grunts, Tony got to his feet with a little bounce that he instantly regretted. Instead of concern, a look of total indifference crossed his long-time friend’s face.  
“Gotta have it in top shape if it’s going to be backup.” He glanced between Happy and the armor, knowing the man didn’t come to talk about that. “What’s up, Hap?”  
And now, a slight hint of irritation as the large man reached into an inner pocket of his suit jacket, then held out a closed hand to Tony. Curious, Stark extended his hand and into his palm was dropped a micro-flashdrive. Brows cinched together with confusion.  
“What’s this?”  
“I swear to god, Tony, if I have to see it _one more time_ on the security cameras, I’m done. Finished. Outta here. I love you like a brother, man, but if I have to have the image of you getting fucked burned into my brain one more time I’m going to go insane. Bonkers. Got it?”  
Despite the redness lighting up his face, Stark burst out into a painful laugh, using Happy’s shoulder to brace himself on when he began to double over.  
“Oh my god, Hap, I’m so sorry,” Which hardly sounded genuine when he was wheezing through laughter. “I forgot you still monitored security footage!”  
“Mmhm.” Happy, 100% done with Stark’s shit, hummed.  
Still chuckling, Tony pulled him in close, mischief twinkling in his eyes. “C’mon, gotta admit it’s pretty hot, me taking every single inch of that big d--”  
“DONE, TONY!” Happy shoved a giggling Stark away, making him wince and howl with laughter. Poor Hogan’s face was beet red as he started to storm out.  
“Sure you don’t want a copy?” Tony shouted after him. Happy flipped him off as he quickly jogged down the stairs, leaving him having to flop down into a chair for the rest of his laughter. Tears had to be rubbed away once he calmed down. Poor Happy, Tony would have to make it up to him somehow.  
“FRIDAY, baby girl, call Stephen.”  
As the AI connected the call, he inserted the drive into the slot of one of the computers to bring up the footage.  
“Tony?” Stephen’s voice questioned. “Everything alright?”  
“Honey,” Already, he had the giggles again. “You aren’t gonna believe this.”


End file.
